


Poison kiss taste

by Munnin



Series: The Star Wars Write Stuff challenge. [35]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, The Siren of Dathomir
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 11:16:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12107544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munnin/pseuds/Munnin
Summary: Based on OC clone trooper fromThe Siren of Dathomirby the awesomeJoe Hogan.





	Poison kiss taste

His name was Hookshot. At least that’s what his fellows called him. He was a scout – clever and independent as scouts needed to be. He could go months without seeing other brothers. Or anyone else for that matter, without it getting to him.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t love coming back. Being around other troopers refreshed him. It revitalised him. Like a man who didn’t realise how thirsty he was till he was around water again. 

The name came, not from his abilities as a sniper, but from an improbably good throw during a game of hoopball back on Kamino. It was during basic, when none of them were meant to have names. When they were all meant to show how well they’d come out of their particular moulds. It had just been a game and the throw had been pure luck. The way the ball has come of his fingers had made it spin, making it seem to hook around in the low gravity practise dome. 

And so, he’d been Hookshot ever since. 

The assignment was a privilege. A bit of a shock really. He knew his record was good, but not so good that the Council would ask for him in particular.

A good trooper wasn’t meant to stand out. Not a standard issue clone like him. He was… just one from the same mould. 

But there he was, flying his little solo scout ship to the wild fringes of the silent world of Dathomir. Ready to discover the source of the sound disturbance that had the Council so confused. 

He should have known something was wrong as soon as his communications went out. 

But it was his first big mission. His chance to stand out. To earn his name for more than a freak throw in a game long ago. 

His last conscious thought as he tasted the bitter poison of the Siren’s lips, was that it didn’t matter. He was just one of many, all pressed from the same mould. He could be replaced. The Council would send more. Till one of them succeeded. 

That’s what troopers were for.

His drained body fell to the cavern floor, duraplast armour clattering, his thick scarf fluttering in the breeze as the Siren sighed contentedly.


End file.
